#team silverstone
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alianoralacanta · 5 months ago
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Hi, Alianora :) I've been reading your essays and you're just brilliant! I was wondering about your F1 journey, and I wanted to ask how did you get into it, and what's your journey been like? I know you supported Jules and you support Charles too but I would love to know more.
Thank you for the kind comment, anon :)
I had, and still have, a much longer version of this. I'm not sure how 100% sure to answer the "What's your journey been like?" part but I will try. Please let me know if you're interested in particular bits of the longer piece (it's definitely too long to submit in one go). I'm a 3rd-generation F1 fan, and my parents tell me I watched some of the Mansell era with them, back when I was too young to understand what was going on. While I distinctly remember being interested in his move to Indycars, I don't recall these F1 races. I do recall the moment I decided to become a F1 fan. France 1993. I'd been playing football outside when it started raining. The living room had F1 on (my parents were obviously watching) and I was entranced by the multi-coloured pointy things and the fact the names were on screen. When I found out there were books about F1, that sealed the deal. I'm a bookworm and the intellectual side of F1 came through very clearly. (One of the books helpfully had a section on how much safety had improved since the early days, despite being written in 1980. This was a lot of the reason I didn't quit watching F1 in the immediate aftermath of Imola 1994).
Damon Hill was the first driver I supported - because his last name was short. Despite that unpromising selection criterion, he made me a very happy fan because of his intellectual approach and determination. The 18 months covering his time at Arrows (a near-backmarker team) and the half-season at Jordan where he scored absolutely nothing were when I learned the basics of how to handle being a fan during bad performances. Spain 1998 was when I started supporting my team. Damon Hill had retired from the race ten laps earlier when I suddenly heard myself saying, "Come on Ralf!" Followed by wondering, "Who's Ralf, apart from Damon's team-mate and Michael Schumacher's brother?" That was when I realised I'd been attracted by Eddie Jordan's bright and feisty attitude, combined with its non-nonsense racing crew. I've now supported Jordan through five name changes. Giancarlo "Fisico" Fisichella was someone I started supporting because I saw an interview after Spain 2001 that made me think he had a really interesting way of seeing the world. I think I was right :) I'm still supporting him in his Italian GT adventures and am happy he can now depend on Arthur Leclerc's help.
The following year, Dad and I went to Silverstone to watch F1 qualifying. The fan belt broke on the car but we still got there in time to watch the end of the last practise session, as well as qualifying itself. Dad participated in the infamous prediction quiz that he lost to Alex Albon (I think Dad got 1 position out of the 5 correct), and I discovered that wearing a yellow hat meant getting followed by half of Silverstone's flying insect population. None of this put us off returning for the whole weekend in 2009. In 2003, I discovered F1 forums. My first forum was Home of F1 and my second post (trying to explain why BAR's desire to present itself as perfect would annoy recently-dismissed driver Jacques Villeneuve) caused a minor flame war until I clarified that I did not think BAR was perfect. I've seen jokes about the reading standard on Tumblr; rest assured the generation of internet users before this one was just as bad. I also found a Jordan-specific forum that was much more chilled. There was one particularly gatekeepery user who looked down upon Jordan fans, but I managed to convince even that one (never learned the user's gender) to not deploy it against me or in my sight, because I always had a good logical takedown of the hole in the arguments employed for those attacks. Part of the reason I could do this was F1 Magazine, which helpfully provided practise in the form of its Tom Rubython columns. Every month, he would write a "take" on F1 and it was one's mission, as the reader, to find and pull the thread which made the entire argument unravel. (Not that Tom was ever aware that this was arguably the best use of his column).
I started supporting Tiago Monteiro when he joined F1 in 2005, because I liked his backstory; absolutely no interest in F1 until the second year of university, whereupon a friend invited him to a track day. He then substituted for an injured friend in an entry-level series. He ended up enjoying it so much that after he graduated with a degree in hotel management, he decided to take up racing and see if he could make a career of it. Which he did. Including a point at Spa of all places and being the only person who was happy at Indianapolis 2005. Now he's a regular podium-finisher in the 24 Hours of the Nurburgring. I started blogging in F1 (La Canta Magnifico Blog) shortly after Spa 2005, because the forum I was on split. I'd got friends on both fora and continued writing on both. The "new" forum wanted to get more people reading it. Initially there were four people writing, but I took the opportunity to start writing posts on other blogs and websites which interested me. The only ones which still exist are RaceFans.net (back when it was still one particularly devoted fan's blog) and a small forum called GP Wizard. Within six weeks, the other three had stopped writing their posts and focused their efforts on commenting on mine. Both fora sank in 2008. Although I have a number of posts from that time, it's not a full archive, rather a selection of highlights.
I spent a season as admin of the Jordan forum, the one that was Fisichella's last year in F1. This was also the year I managed to get onto the official Fisichella Forum (this was in the last years of drivers having fora they officially sanctioned). This gave me the confidence to help rescue the official Fisichella Forum when its management deleted it at the start of 2010 (apparently forgetting there were about 100 people still using it at that point and that they might appreciate at least a few days' warning to archive their writings!). I was a co-admin from 2010 until it ended in 2018, having spent the last three years as the sole admin with an audience of three people plus an ever-rising tide of spambots. I still have a penpal from that forum.
Jules Bianchi entered my awareness in 2010, because one of his jobs was clearly being prepared to be reserve Ferrari driver and a lot of Fisico's fans were initially annoyed because they thought that was Fisico's job. However, it was the way he did the Force India reserve job in 2012 that made me a fan. Here was someone who felt like he was completely embedded within his team, with a brilliant attitude, despite patently belonging in a much better position. I was sad when he didn't get the Force India position, but his adamantine willpower and gratitude went a long way towards making the Marussia/Manor team more than I think it had imagined being. Jules gathered together a group of friends who enjoyed being around that positivity and determination, several of whom made it to F1 in their own right. In September 2014, one of the journalists I respected the most about junior series observed that one of the youngest members of that group was doing very well in FRECA and displaying much of Jules' personality. I looked at the article and thought, "Well, I could spend 5 years waiting for this driver to go through the junior ranks and inevitably start supporting him in F1 - or start doing it now and enjoy the journey." With that, I started supporting Charles Leclerc and am very happy to have made that choice. Oh, nearly forgot to mention my solo F1-related trips: the annual visit to the Force India/Racing Point reception with goodies for much of the 2010s, visiting the Manor factory a few times during the short time in 2015 the F1 operation was based next to a steel merchant in Dinnington and the epic fail that was my trip to Hungary 2018 (so fail-y that I only found out who won a week later). Hope this helps.
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sai-lec · 5 months ago
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nico hulkenberg said hold on i need to serve cunt today and outqualified both ferraris
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23victoria · 5 months ago
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“P1 BABY!!”
lewis hamilton x wife!reader
wc: 1.2k
warnings: smut
authors note: HE FUCKING WONN!!! SO SO SO HAPPY FOR HIM!! IVE BEEN CRYING ALL DAY!! I LOVE HIM SO MICH HE DESERVES IT!! GOAT OF F1! ❤️
wanna be tagged in my works? CLICK HERE
f1 masterlist
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y/nhamilton
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liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell, sza, georgerussell, mercedesamgf1, charlesleclerc, oscar piastri, and 4,444,444 others
P1 for my baby at Silverstone!!! I am beyond proud and amazed by this man everyday. His dedication, determination, grace, courage, and love for this sport and his fans is beautiful to see and experience! Thank you to the fans for all your support and love!! Seeing you guys out there today was beautiful! Such an emotional day for us all! I never gave up on him no matter how many times he gave up on himself, I believed in him and so did you. Today was proof that he is and will always be the Greatest Of All Time in F1! Lewis, I love you forever and always ❤️! Still We Rise!! 🙌🏾🫶🏾❤️🥹
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lewishamilton i love you so much my love 🫶🏾❤️
landonorris congrats to lewis!!
sebastianvettel goat! congrats lewis!! 🤍
hamazinglew so proud of him!!
username22 it’s been so long!!
username16 he was crying, i was crying, we all crode 🥹
username1 love you lewis!!
username9 lh44 forever!!
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You can hardly contain your excitement as you stand amidst the roaring crowd at Silverstone, the atmosphere electric with anticipation. The air vibrates with the sound of engines and the fervent cheers of fans, all eyes on the track. You’re right there in the thick of it, feeling every heartbeat, every surge of adrenaline as the race unfolds.
Lewis Hamilton, your hero, your partner, is in the lead. You clutch the edge of your seat, your breath hitching with every turn he takes. The final lap approaches, and the world seems to hold its breath. The finish line is in sight, and when Lewis crosses it, a wave of euphoria sweeps over the grandstands. He’s done it. He’s won!
Tears blur your vision as you leap to your feet, joining the chorus of ecstatic fans. The noise is deafening, but all you can think about is getting to him. You push through the crowd, your heart pounding in time with the chants of his name. When he steps out of the car, the expression on his face is pure joy.
You break into a run, the world around you a blur, and before you know it, you’re in his arms. He lifts you off your feet, holding you tight as both of you cry tears of happiness.
“I knew you could do it,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion. “You’re so talented, and this is just the beginning. There’s so much more to come.”
He kisses you deeply, and the world fades away until it’s just the two of you, lost in the moment. “I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.
“I love you too,” you reply, feeling a surge of pride and love swell in your chest.
Lewis makes his way to the podium, and you watch him, your heart swelling with pride. The cheers of the crowd wash over you as he lifts the trophy, the culmination of all his hard work and dedication.
.•☆.°.•.*₊ ☆ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .
The evening finds you both at a club, the celebration in full swing. The music is loud, the lights are bright, and the energy is contagious. You dance and drink, savoring every moment. You’re surrounded by friends and fans, all celebrating Lewis’s incredible victory.
With a bottle of Almave in hand, you toast to the night, to the future, to love and success. The two of you dance like there’s no tomorrow, feeling the warmth and comfort of being together. The music fades into the background as you lose yourselves in the moment, simply enjoying being with one another
The celebration at the club has left you both exhilarated and slightly tipsy, the world a delightful blur of lights and music. Now, as you step into the quiet sanctity of your bedroom, the atmosphere shifts, becoming charged with a different kind of energy.
Lewis looks at you, his eyes dark with desire and affection. You smile, stepping closer to him, your fingers lightly grazing his arm. “Tonight is about you,” you whisper, your voice soft but filled with intent.
You begin with a slow, lingering kiss, your lips exploring his with a gentle but growing hunger. He responds in kind, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the anticipation building with every heartbeat.
You guide him to the bed, your hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the taut muscles beneath. You lift the fabric, exposing his chest, and he helps you by raising his arms, letting you pull the shirt over his head. You take a moment to admire him, his skin gleaming in the soft light.
You push him gently onto the bed, straddling him. Your hands explore his body, fingers tracing the lines of his abs, the contours of his chest. You kiss your way down his neck, savoring the taste of his skin. He moans softly, his hands on your hips, guiding you closer.
Your lips continue their journey downward, kissing, licking, teasing. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pause, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. He meets your gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of love and lust.
Slowly, you undo his belt, the sound of the buckle hitting the floor loud in the quiet room. You slide his pants down, revealing the growing bulge in his boxers. You kiss along the line of his hip, teasing him, making him wait. His breath hitches, his hands clenching the sheets.
Finally, you remove his boxers, freeing his cock. You take him in your hand, stroking him gently, your eyes never leaving his. You lean down, your lips brushing against the tip, tasting him. His reaction is immediate, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips.
You take your time, teasing him with your mouth, your tongue, until he’s trembling beneath you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Just when he thinks he can’t take any more, you stop, moving back up to kiss him deeply.
“Please,” he whispers against your lips, his voice hoarse with need.
You smile, positioning yourself over him, guiding him inside you. The sensation is intense, both of you gasping as you begin to move together. The rhythm is slow at first, building gradually, each movement bringing you closer.
As the passion builds, he flips you over, positioning you on your stomach. His hands grip your hips, pulling you up so you're on your knees. You feel his fingers tangle in your hair, giving a gentle but firm tug as he thrusts into you from behind. The intensity of the angle makes you cry out in pleasure, the sensation overwhelming.
He continues to thrust in and out of you, the pace quickening, each movement more powerful than the last. You feel yourself tightening around him, the tension building as his name falls from your lips in a breathless moan. His grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back slightly, exposing the curve of your neck. He leans forward, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers words of love and desire.
Feeling the edge approaching, he slows down, pulling out and flipping you onto your back again. He positions himself between your legs, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder, deepening the angle. His eyes lock onto yours, the connection between you electric as he thrusts in and out of you.
The intensity is almost too much to bear, every thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. You reach up, your hands gripping his arms, feeling the muscles tense and flex with each powerful thrust. The look in his eyes is one of pure adoration, mixed with a raw, primal desire that sends shivers down your spine.
“Lewis,” you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. “I’m so close.”
He responds with a deep, passionate kiss, his thrusts becoming faster, driving you both to the brink. The tension inside you finally snaps, your body arching as you come, a cry of ecstasy escaping your lips. The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Lewis follows moments later, his release spilling into you as he groans your name, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.
You collapse into each other, spent but utterly content. Your bodies are still tangled together, the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you both. You lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fading away, leaving just the two of you, basking in the warmth of your love and the triumph of the day.
✿ .° • everything taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164
✿ .° • lewis taglist • °. ✿ : @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality
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© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own
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mrsfancyferrari · 4 months ago
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Timeless Desire
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Summary: You had always been Mercedes fan since you were young and it didn't change when you became Max's best friend. Based on British Grand Prix.
Song: Me and Your Mama - Childish Gambino
Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <33
Word count: 12.6k
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╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝
You had always been a Mercedes fan since you were young, and it hadn't changed when you became Max Verstappen's best friend. The British Grand Prix had always been a special occasion for you, being a Brit yourself.
This time, however, you decided to wear your signed Mercedes shirt to the paddock, attracting a lot of attention.
As you walked into the paddock, you could feel the eyes of the public on you, a mix of curiosity and admiration. The atmosphere was electric, with fans and team members bustling around, preparing for the big race.
You caught a few whispers and nods of recognition, some even pointing at your shirt with approving smiles. It felt surreal to be in the midst of such excitement, wearing the symbol of your childhood dreams.
Max spotted you from across the paddock and made his way over, a grin spreading across his face as he saw the shirt. "Are you ready for me to win again?" he said with a wink, clapping you on the back.
"Not in a million years Maxie," You replied, nudging your shoulders to his.
Being here, surrounded by the roar of the engines and the energy of the fans, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of belonging.
You followed Max to the Red Bull garage, your Mercedes shirt still drawing a few curious stares from the Red Bull staff. Most of them were used to seeing you around, though, and had long accepted your unwavering loyalty to Mercedes.
The mechanics were busy fine-tuning Max's car, their focus undeterred by your presence. As you stood there, you could feel the palpable tension and anticipation in the air, a reminder of how high the stakes were for everyone involved.
Max chatted with his engineers, occasionally glancing back at you with a playful smirk. You knew he thrived on the friendly rivalry between the two of you. Despite the different team colors, the camaraderie and mutual respect you shared with Max and the Red Bull crew were undeniable.
It was moments like these that made you appreciate the sport even more, knowing that beneath the fierce competition, there was a deep bond that transcended team allegiances.
As Max was engrossed in a conversation with his team, you decided to take advantage of the moment and slip away for a while.
You couldn't miss out on the chance to connect with other like-minded individuals. The other wives of girlfriends of the drivers welcomed you into their circle.
"So what's the story behind the Mercedes shirt?" Rebecca asked curiously.
"Oh I'm just a big fan of Mercedes, especially Lewis Hamilton," you explained with a smile.
"While dating Max Verstappen? That must be hard to do," Lily Muni commented.
You blushed, taken aback by her comment. "Oh, no, Max and I are just friends," you quickly clarified, feeling a bit flustered.
Rebecca and Lily exchanged glances, clearly still intrigued, but they let the subject drop as the conversation shifted to other topics.
In your thoughts, you couldn't help but replay Lily's comment. The idea of dating Max had never crossed your mind in a serious way; your bond was built on years of shared experiences and a mutual love for racing.
Yet, the notion lingered, making you question if perhaps there was more beneath the surface of your friendship.
You had such strong feelings for Max, but you were terrified of rejection.
He's the 3-time world champion, a true legend of the sport. How could someone like you ever have a chance with someone as incredible as him? He's so talented, so successful, and you were just an ordinary person. The thought of opening your heart to him only to be turned away is enough to fill you with dread.
Part of you wishes you could just ignore these feelings, but they're impossible to deny. Every time you see him race, your heart skips a beat.
He's so captivating, so mesmerizing. You know deep down that you two could be amazing together, but the risk of rejection is too much to bear. You’d have to be content admiring him from afar, as much as that pains you. He's simply out of your league.
You had to rush back to the Red Bull garage to give Max at least some of your good luck while the rest was left for the Mercedes drivers.
You gave him a quick hug and told him, "Go easy on them will you?"
Max smirked and said, "Never in a million years."
You watched as Max got into his race car and drove off to the starting line. The atmosphere was electric, with the roar of the engines and the cheers of the crowd filling the air.
You then made your way over to the area where the celebrities were gathered, eager to catch a glimpse of the famous faces. As you mingled with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement.
Whenever George, Lando or Hamilton were out on the track, you joined the throngs of fans in cheering them on, your voice adding to the cacophony of support that echoed through the circuit.
Jenson Button approached me, eager to know whom I was supporting at the British Grand Prix. "Excuse me, Y/N L/N. Can I have a moment of your time for a small interview?" he asked politely.
“Sure, I don’t mind!” You yelled over to the cars that had passed by where you were with speed for overtaking each other.
"I noticed you seem quite invested in the race today. Who are you rooting for?" He asked.
You turned to face the legendary Formula One driver, a smile spreading across your face. "Well, Jenson, I've always been a fan of Lewis Hamilton. The way he navigates those tight corners and pushes the limits of his car is truly inspiring. But I have to say, I'm also keeping a close eye on George Russell. He's been putting in some remarkable performances lately, and I wouldn't be surprised to see him on the podium today."
Jenson nodded thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Ah, yes, George did get podium in Austria. It's been great to see him come into his own this season. And of course, Lewis is always a force to be reckoned with on his home turf."
He paused, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Tell me, who do you think has the best chance of taking the chequered flag on Sunday?"
You turned around, revealing the word "Lewis Hamilton" written on your shirt in bold, striking letters. "I guess my shirt says it all," you laughed.
"Lewis has an incredible track record here at Silverstone, and I believe his experience and skill will give him the edge this weekend. But honestly, in racing, anything can happen, and that's what makes it so thrilling."
Jenson grinned, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. "Well, it looks like you're all set for a fantastic race day. Enjoy the rest of the Grand Prix, and may the best driver win!"
With that, he gave you a friendly nod and moved on to the next eager fan. You turned back to the track, heart pounding with anticipation, ready to cheer on your favorites as they battled it out on one of the most iconic circuits in the world.
Not long after Jenson moved on, you spotted Max Verstappen exiting his car after the first practice session. He looked focused but relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips as he made his way toward the garage.
Seizing the opportunity, you approached him. "Max, you were incredible out there! How are you feeling about the car's performance today?" you asked.
Max turned to you, his eyes bright with determination. "Thanks! The car felt really good, especially through the high-speed corners. We've made a few tweaks since the last race, and it seems to be paying off," he said with a nod.
"But there's still a lot of work to do, and we need to make sure everything's perfect for qualifying tomorrow." His gaze shifted back to the track, the competitive fire clearly evident.
"That's great to hear," you replied, excitement evident in your voice. "I'm sure you and the team will nail it. Best of luck for the qualifying session—I'll be rooting for you!"
Max chuckled, his grin widening. "I know you're actually rooting for Lewis, so don't try and convince me," he said, playfully pointing at your shirt before walking back to his team.
You chuckled, caught off guard by his playful comment, but you couldn't help but admire his confidence. As he disappeared into the garage, you turned your attention back to the track, eager for the next glimpse of racing action.
Realizing this was the perfect moment to engage with your followers, you quickly pulled out your phone and started a video.
"Hey everyone, I'm here at Silverstone, and it's absolutely electric! I just had an amazing chat with Max Verstappen, who seems really confident about the car's performance today."
With the camera still rolling, you began to walk around the paddock, capturing the vibrant atmosphere. "Look at this crowd! The energy here is just unbelievable. Stay tuned, because I'll be sharing more exclusive content, interviews, and updates throughout the Grand Prix. Make sure to follow and hit that notification bell so you don't miss a thing!"
You ended the video with a smile, feeling thrilled to share this unforgettable experience with your followers.
The paddock buzzed with activity, mechanics tirelessly working on cars while the air was filled with the sound of revving engines and excited chatter. Colorful team banners and flags fluttered in the breeze, adding to the vibrant spectacle.
The aroma of fuel and tire rubber mingled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee from nearby stalls, creating an intoxicating blend that awakens all your senses.
You decided to wander around the paddock until the second practice session started, eager to soak in every bit of the atmosphere. As you strolled past the various team garages, you couldn't help but marvel at the precision and dedication of the crew members.
Each mechanic moved with purpose, their focus unwavering as they fine-tuned the cars for optimal performance. The occasional cheer erupted from fans who managed to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers, adding to the palpable excitement in the air.
Pausing at a merchandise stall, you took a moment to browse through the array of team hats, shirts, and memorabilia. The vendor’s enthusiastic pitch and the sight of fans proudly donning their favorite team's colors made you smile.
With a new Mercedes cap in hand, you continued your exploration, eventually finding a spot near the track with a clear view of the action.
Settling in, you glanced at your watch, counting down the minutes until the second practice session began, anticipation building with every passing second. . . . .
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The second practice session had come to an exhilarating end, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as the leaderboard displayed Lando Norris’s name at the top. Seeing a Brit in first place put a broad smile on your face, a sentiment echoed by the cheers of the crowd around you.
The young driver's impressive performance had not only captured the hearts of the local fans but also ignited a sense of optimism for the upcoming race.
As the teams began to pack up their equipment and the drivers headed back to their motorhomes, you reflected on the day's events. The energy, the passion, and the sheer love for the sport were palpable, making you even more excited for what lay ahead.
You knew Max Verstappen wasn’t thrilled with his results today; the frustration was evident in his body language as he walked past the garage. Deciding it was best to give him some space, you chose to head back to your apartment on your own.
The cool evening breeze accompanied you as you made your way through the bustling streets, the excitement of the new day still lingering in the air.
Back at the apartment, you kicked off your shoes and sank into the couch, the day’s events replaying in your mind. The roar of the engines, the fervor of the crowd, and the sheer thrill of the race had left an indelible mark on you.
Your mind drifted back to the moment you saw Max Verstappen walk past the garage. His usually composed demeanor was replaced with visible frustration; sweat clung to his brow and his hair was tousled, a stark contrast to his usual neat appearance.
You couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for him. Racing was as much a mental game as it was a physical one, and today had clearly taken its toll on him.
As you sank deeper into the couch, you recalled the intensity in Max's eyes, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the team's expectations on his shoulders. It wasn't just about winning; it was about pride, about proving himself in the face of fierce competition.
His messy hair and worn-out look were a testament to the effort he poured into every lap.
You found yourself silently rooting for him, hoping that tomorrow would bring him better results and the sense of accomplishment he so clearly desired.
Just as you were deep in thought about Max, your phone buzzed, pulling you back to the present. Glancing at the screen, you saw his name flash across it.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, but quickly answered.
"Hey," you said softly, trying to gauge his mood.
"Hey," he replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I just... I needed to talk to someone. It's been a rough day."
You could hear the weariness in his voice, the frustration still lingering. "Of course, Max," you responded, your tone gentle and supportive. "Today was tough, but you're an incredible driver. You've got what it takes to bounce back."
There was a brief pause before he spoke again, "Thanks. I just needed to hear that. Tomorrow’s a new day, right?"
You smiled, "Absolutely. Get some rest, and let's see you take on the track with that unstoppable spirit of yours."
"Thanks, I'll come pick you up in the morning at the same time as today, is that alright?" Max asked, his voice sounding a bit lighter now.
"That sounds perfect," you replied, relieved to hear a hint of optimism returning to his tone. "Get some rest, Max. Tomorrow's another chance to shine."
After ending the call, you set your phone down and took a deep breath, feeling a mix of concern and hope for Max.
You decided to make yourself a cup of tea, hoping the warmth would help settle your thoughts. As you sipped the soothing drink, you couldn't help but replay the conversation in your mind.
As you sipped the soothing drink, you couldn't help but replay the conversation in your mind. The warmth in Max's voice was something rare, a side of him that few got to witness.
It stirred something deep within you, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach at the thought. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, tonight he had reached out to you, revealing a vulnerability that made you feel closer to him than ever before.
You let the warmth of the tea seep into you, calming your nerves while your thoughts raced. The connection you felt with Max tonight was undeniable, and it left you wondering about the deeper layers of his character.
Tomorrow, when he picked you up, you hoped to see that same spark of warmth in his eyes, a sign that he was ready to face the challenges ahead with renewed vigor.
Until then, you allowed yourself to bask in the glow of this newfound closeness, feeling a sense of hope and anticipation for the days to come. . . .
The next day arrived faster than you had anticipated, and before you knew it, the alarm was blaring in your ear. Groggy and disoriented, you realized with a start that you had overslept.
Panic set in as you hurriedly got ready, grabbing another Lewis Hamilton shirt and a Mercedes hat for some much-needed shade. You barely had time to brush your hair before Max would be at your doorstep.
You quickly brushed your teeth, splashed some water on your face, and dashed out the door, your heart pounding not just from the hurry but from the anticipation of seeing him again.
Rushing down the stairs, you hoped that your tardiness wouldn't dampen Max’s newly found optimism. As you stepped outside, you saw his car approaching, and a wave of relief washed over you.
The moment you climbed into the car, Max greeted you with a smile that was both reassuring and genuine. "Ready for today?" he asked, and you couldn’t help but feel that, despite the rocky start, everything was going to be just fine.
"Absolutely," you replied with a grin, trying to mask the flutter of nerves still lingering from your rushed morning. "Let's make it a great day."
Max's smile widened, and you felt a surge of confidence as the car pulled away from the curb, setting the course for whatever lay ahead.
The both of you arrived at the paddock at the usual time, the familiar hum of activity already filling the air. Mechanics were bustling about, engineers deep in conversation, and the distinctive scent of fuel and rubber permeated the space.
You used your paddock pass to enter the gate, feeling a sense of belonging as you navigated through the organized chaos. Max walked beside you, his presence steady and comforting.
As you approached the garage, you couldn’t help but notice the way the team members greeted Max with a newfound respect. It was as if the previous night's vulnerability had transformed him in their eyes as well.
He exchanged quick words with the crew, his tone confident and determined. You caught his eye, and he flashed you a quick, reassuring smile.
Since there was still time before the third practice race, you and Max decided to walk around the paddock. The bustling atmosphere of the Formula One paddock was electric, with teams of engineers and mechanics scurrying about, fine-tuning their cars for the upcoming sessions.
As you and Max strolled through the maze of garages, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The sights and sounds of the sport you both loved so dearly were all around you, and you knew that the real action was just moments away.
The two of you exchanged excited glances, each of you eager to see what the day had in store.
Then in the distance, you saw Lewis Hamilton getting interviewed by Jenson Button and other journalists. Hamilton's outfit exuded a sense of style and sophistication that perfectly complemented his status as a Formula One superstar.
Dressed in a tailored charcoal grey suit, Hamilton looked sharp and modern. The slim-fit jacket accentuated his athletic build, while the crisp white shirt and slim-cut trousers gave him a polished, contemporary look. Finishing off the ensemble were a pair of sleek black leather dress shoes, lending an air of elegance to his overall appearance.
Hamilton's fashion choices demonstrated his keen eye for detail and his ability to effortlessly blend high performance sportswear with high-end formal attire, solidifying his reputation as one of the most stylish personalities in the world of motorsports.
Jenson and Lewis paused their conversation as their eyes fell upon you and Max. Their faces lit up with genuine smiles, and Jenson waved enthusiastically, beckoning you over. The camera crew shifted slightly to accommodate the new dynamic, capturing the camaraderie between the drivers.
"Hey, you two!" Jenson called out. "Come join us for a bit!" The invitation was casual yet filled with warmth, a testament to the close-knit community within the paddock.
"Are you coming?" you whispered to Max and he shook his head, understanding completely.
It would be too early in the morning for him to be hammered with questions with the 7th World Champion.
You made your way over, exchanging nods and greetings with the crew along the way.
As you joined the small circle, Lewis extended his arms for a friendly hug. The warmth of his embrace was a welcome respite from the chill of the evening air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging in that moment.
His firm yet gentle grip conveyed a genuine affection that put you at ease, reminding you of the strong bond you shared.
The hug lasted just long enough to feel comforting, without becoming overbearing. As you pulled away, you caught a glimpse of the genuine smile that spread across Lewis' face, his eyes twinkling with genuine delight at your arrival.
"Good to see you again Y/N," he said, his voice carrying the same charm as his attire.
"Same to you Lewis," you replied with a grin on your face after meeting your idol.
You two have met before and every time Max would be with you but he would let you speak for the both of you.
"You know, we've seen some viral rumors going around about the two of you," Jenson stated, his tone playful yet curious. "Your faces look very similar," he added, prompting nods of agreement from the surrounding interviewers.
You chuckled, glancing over at Lewis, who seemed equally amused. "Yeah, I've heard that one before," Lewis said with a grin. "People always think we're related or something."
"I would be lucky to have you as my dad," you replied, your tone light-hearted but sincere. The surrounding crew chuckled, and Lewis laughed warmly, patting you on the back.
"Well, if I had a kid as cool as you, I'd be the lucky one," he responded, his eyes sparkling with genuine affection.
"You know, I was in high school when you won your first world championship," you said, reminiscing about the early days of his career. Lewis raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.
Lewis chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Oh, come on now, Y/N. That makes me feel ancient," he replied, still grinning.
Jenson joined in, adding, "Well, there's no denying the resemblance. Maybe you two should do a DNA test just for fun." The suggestion elicited more laughter, and you shrugged, playing along.
"Who knows, maybe we’ll find out we’re long-lost family," you joked, feeling the camaraderie and light-heartedness of the moment.
Jenson leaned in, clearly enjoying the banter. "So, Y/N, any plans to follow in our footsteps and join the racing world?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
You shrugged with a smile, "Who knows? Maybe one day. For now, I'm just enjoying the ride and learning from the best."
Lewis smiled warmly before patting your shoulder. "That's the spirit, Y/N. Keep learning and who knows where you'll end up," he encouraged.
The crew continued to chat and laugh, the atmosphere buzzing with energy and camaraderie.
Jenson looked back at Max, who was still waiting patiently. "Let's not keep Max Verstappen waiting any longer and let you go," he said with a grin. "But before you leave, who are you rooting for to win on Sunday?"
You grinned and turned to the camera, proudly showing off your shirt which had Lewis Hamilton's name and number emblazoned on it.
"Of course, for my favorite driver, Lewis Hamilton," you declared with enthusiasm. The crew erupted in cheers and applause, clearly appreciating your loyalty.
Lewis laughed heartily, shaking his head. "Well, it's good to know I've got such a dedicated fan in you, Y/N," he said, his eyes twinkling with gratitude. "Just make sure you keep cheering loudly; I might need that extra bit of support on Sunday."
You nodded eagerly, feeling the warmth of the moment as Jenson wrapped up the interview.
When he unexpectedly reached out and signed your Mercedes cap and shirt, you were utterly starstruck and overcome with a profound sense of awe.
The surreal experience of having the coveted autograph of your revered idol permanently emblazoned upon your personal item is a feeling that will undoubtedly be etched into your memory, to be cherished and fondly recalled for years to come.
This tangible connection to your admired public figure has elevated the cap and the shirt from a mere article of clothing into a prized possession, imbued with deep personal significance that will serve as a lasting reminder of this incredible, once-in-a-lifetime moment.
"Thank you guys for making me meet my dad," you joked as you handed your microphone to a staff member. The crew burst into laughter, and even Lewis couldn't help but chuckle at your playful remark.
"Good luck, Dad!" you said as you walked away from the group, grinning from ear to ear. The crew's laughter continued to echo behind you, and Lewis gave a final wave, still smiling at your endearing humor.
"Thanks, kid," Lewis said back, still smiling warmly. You felt a rush of pride as you walked away, knowing that this incredible moment would stay with you forever. The excitement of the day left you feeling like you were walking on air, already anticipating the thrilling race ahead.
Max then joined you halfway as you two walked together behind the group. "That was quite the interaction," he remarked, glancing at the freshly signed cap in your hands. "I think you just made everyone in the crew a little jealous."
You chuckled, still riding the high of the unforgettable experience. "It feels like a dream. I mean, meeting Lewis Hamilton and getting his autograph? It's surreal," you replied, your voice bubbling with excitement.
Max raised an eyebrow playfully, “Would you be this excited if I gave you a signed Red Bull hat?”
You laughed, glancing at him, “Of course, Max! But you know, nothing beats meeting your hero.”
Max smirked, shaking his head with a mock sigh, “Guess I’ll have to step up my game then.”
"Well, Max, you'll have to start by winning a few more championships," you teased, nudging him lightly. He laughed, playfully rolling his eyes.
"But seriously, Max, you're my second hero too," you admitted with a grin, making him laugh and shake his head.
As you both entered the Red Bull garage, the familiar hum of activity and the scent of burning rubber welcomed you, amplifying your anticipation for the race ahead.
"These are the only times I've actually seen Max laugh this week," Jenson commented, overhearing the lighthearted exchange.
Lewis smiled warmly at the remark, clearly pleased to see such camaraderie. "Well, it looks like she's got the magic touch on Max," Lewis said, giving you a nod of approval.
Jenson chuckled, nodding in agreement. "It's true, she's got a way of bringing out the best in all of us," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Maybe we should keep her around for good luck," he added, glancing at Lewis with a grin. . . .
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The results from the third practice session of the British Grand Prix left you utterly astonished. The top three positions were dominated by British drivers: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, and George Russell.
The roar of the crowd was deafening as the names flashed up on the leaderboard, and you could feel the electricity in the air. The excitement was palpable, and the entire paddock buzzed with a mix of admiration and determination.
As you and Alexandra absorbed the results, you couldn't help but feel a surge of national pride mixed with the competitive spirit that coursed through the paddock.
"Three Brits at the top—who would've thought?" Alex mused, glancing at the screen.
"It's going to be one heck of a race," you replied, a grin spreading across your face.
The anticipation for Sunday's race grew stronger, knowing that this unexpected turn of events had set the stage for an epic showdown on the Silverstone circuit.
As the final practice session concluded, you made your way back to the garage, where Max was already debriefing with his engineers. His expression was a mix of frustration and determination, clearly unsatisfied with his fourth-place finish.
You could sense the tension in the air as he ran a hand through his hair, listening intently to the feedback. "Fourth place again," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched.
You approached him carefully, offering a supportive smile. "Hey, Max, don't be too hard on yourself. The race is still ahead, and anything can happen," you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He looked up, his eyes softening slightly. "I know, but it's just frustrating," he admitted, exhaling deeply.
"We'll figure it out," you replied confidently. "You've got the skills and the team behind you—we'll get there."
Max’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, the tension in his posture easing. Without warning, he pulled you into a big, tight hug, a gesture of gratitude and camaraderie.
"Thanks," he whispered into your shoulder, his voice barely audible over the buzz of the garage. "I needed that."
You patted his back reassuringly, feeling the weight of his determination and the pressure he was under.
As he released you, he took a step back, his expression a bit lighter. "Alright, let me get to work before I get yelled at by the team," he joked, a renewed spark in his eyes.
You nodded, feeling a surge of optimism before letting him go. As Max turned back to his engineers, you couldn't help but admire his resilience and dedication. The garage was a hive of activity, the mechanics and engineers working tirelessly to fine-tune every detail for the upcoming race.
You knew that this was just the beginning, and that every effort counted towards the ultimate goal. The camaraderie and mutual support within the team were palpable, and it gave you confidence that they could overcome any obstacles.
Walking over to the pit wall, you glanced at the data screens, absorbing the information from the final practice session. The numbers told a story of fierce competition and the relentless pursuit of perfection.
As you watched the team dive into their preparations, you felt a sense of unity and purpose that transcended individual ambitions. The Silverstone circuit awaited, and with the collective strength and determination of the team, you believed they were ready to face whatever challenges came their way.
With the support of his team and the undeniable talent that Max possessed, you knew that the upcoming race would be anything but predictable.
Knowing that Max would likely pull an all-nighter to ensure everything was perfect, you decided to embrace a rare moment of relaxation and joined the girls for a much-needed night out.
The energy of the city was a stark contrast to the focused intensity of the garage, and you relished the chance to unwind and recharge. Laughter and conversation flowed freely as you and the girls caught up over dinner, sharing stories and enjoying each other's company.
"Lily, you should have seen Max today," you said, taking a sip of your drink. "He was so stressed but still managed to joke around. It's like he's made of steel."
Alexandra laughed, "You and Max, honestly, it's like watching a married couple. The way you two support each other is incredible."
Rebecca chimed in, "You both have that unspoken understanding. It's rare to see such a strong bond. Do you ever think about what it would be like if you two were actually together?"
You smiled, shaking your head. "Max and I are just really good friends. We've been through so much together, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."
As the evening progressed, Lily leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, how are things going with Max? Seriously, the way you two finish each other's sentences is uncanny," she teased, nudging Alexandra.
Alexandra and Rebecca chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, it's like you guys have this secret language," Rebecca added, taking a sip of her wine.
You laughed, feeling a warm blush creep up your cheeks. "I think that just happens when you're good friends with someone," you protested lightly. "But honestly, I think it's just because we've been through so much together with the team. It's hard not to get close when you're in the thick of it all."
The girls exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening.
As the night progressed, you felt the stress and tension of the past weeks melt away. Dancing under the colorful lights of the club, you allowed yourself to be fully present in the moment, soaking in the joy and camaraderie of your friends.
Though your mind occasionally drifted back to the team and the upcoming race, you knew that moments like these were essential for maintaining balance and perspective.
The music in the club was a pulsating mix of deep bass and energetic beats, creating an infectious rhythm that made it impossible to stay still.
The DJ seamlessly blended popular hits with classic dance anthems, keeping the energy high and the dance floor packed. Every now and then, a familiar tune would spark cheers from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere of the night.
You tried to forget about tomorrow by dancing your heart out, losing yourself in the music and the laughter of your friends.
Each beat seemed to sync with your heartbeat, pushing away the lingering worries and stress about the upcoming race. The colored lights flashed around you, casting a vibrant glow on the faces of those you loved most.
Alexandra pulled you into a carefree spin, her laughter ringing out like a melody of its own, while Rebecca's enthusiastic dance moves encouraged everyone around her to join in the fun.
As the night wore on, you felt a sense of liberation, a temporary escape from the pressures that awaited you in the morning. The music, the lights, and the camaraderie wrapped around you like a comforting embrace.
You danced until your feet ached and your lungs burned from breathless laughter. In those precious hours, you allowed yourself to be free, knowing that the memories you were creating would fortify you for the challenges ahead. . . .
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As you left the bathroom, a guy approached you with a confident smirk. "Hey there, having a good time?" he asked, stepping into your path.
You quickly pulled out your phone, pretending to check messages, but he wasn't deterred. "Come on, don't be like that," he persisted, reaching out and snatching the phone from your hands.
"Hey, give that back!" you exclaimed, your voice rising above the music. His grin widened as he held your phone just out of reach.
"Relax, I just wanted to talk," he said, but you could see the mischief in his eyes.
"Look, I'm just here to enjoy the night with my friends," you said firmly, trying to keep your cool. "Can you please give me my phone back?"
He chuckled and shook his head, still holding the phone out of reach. "Only if you promise to dance with me for one song," he countered, his eyes sparkling with playful determination.
"Look, I'm not interested," you replied firmly, trying to keep your cool despite the growing frustration. "Just give me my phone back."
"Why so serious?" he teased, leaning in closer. "I promise, I'm not a bad guy."
Suddenly, a fist landed against the man's face, and he staggered backward, releasing your phone. You looked over to see Max standing in front of you, his eyes blazing with anger.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. Max was wearing a black leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt, his jeans slightly worn and his boots scuffed from countless adventures.
"Yeah, I'm fine now," you replied, clutching your phone tightly. The guy groaned, rubbing his jaw, but quickly decided to make himself scarce. "Thanks, Max. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up."
Max shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Don't mention it. No one messes with you." He glanced around, the lively atmosphere of the party resuming as if nothing had happened.
"Come on, let's get back to the others. I think Alexandra is about to challenge everyone to a dance-off."
Max had always been the one to look out for you, ever since you first met. His protective nature wasn't just about physical safety; it was about ensuring you felt secure and valued in every situation. Moments like these reminded you why you valued his friendship so deeply.
You smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you, before following Max over to where the girls were gathered. Alexandra was already hyping everyone up, her infectious energy drawing a crowd. The music thumped louder as she announced the start of the dance-off, and you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement.
"Hey, you're just in time!" Alexandra called out, her voice filled with excitement. "We're about to start the dance-off, and I need my best dancer by my side." You laughed, feeling the tension from earlier melt away.
Max stayed close by your side, his reassuring presence a constant comfort. As the dance-off began, you found yourself laughing and cheering on your friends, the earlier tension quickly fading away.
You start to move your body to the rhythm of the music, swaying your hips and tapping your feet. The beat pulses through you, and you let it guide your movements, flowing from one step to the next with a natural fluidity.
As the tempo picks up, you pick up the pace, your limbs moving with increasing energy and precision. You twirl and spin, your arms outstretched, feeling the music coursing through every inch of your being.
The world around you fades away as you become lost in the dance, your only focus being the rhythm that compels you to keep moving.
The crowd's cheers grew louder, a wave of encouragement that fueled your every move. You could hear your friends shouting your name, their voices blending with the music and creating an intoxicating mix of sound and energy.
Every clap, every cheer, every shout of encouragement pushed you to dance harder, to lose yourself even more in the rhythm. It was a feeling of pure exhilaration, a moment where nothing else mattered but the beat and the joy of movement.
As you executed a particularly challenging spin, the crowd erupted in applause. You caught a glimpse of Max, his eyes filled with pride and approval, and it spurred you on even further.
Your feet barely touched the ground as you performed intricate steps, each one met with more cheers and applause.
Alexandra joined in, her movements mirroring yours in a dazzling display of synchronicity. Together, you owned the dance floor, the world outside the party forgotten as you reveled in the collective energy and sheer delight of the dance-off.
"Alright, I think it's time for us to go," Max muttered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded, your body still buzzing from the adrenaline of the dance-off.
You said goodbye to the girls, their faces glowing with the same exhilaration that still coursed through your veins. They gave you knowing smiles, the kind that spoke of shared secrets and unforgettable moments.
"You were amazing out there," one of them said, pulling you into a quick hug. The others nodded in agreement, their eyes twinkling with pride and admiration.
It was a night that would be etched into your memories, a night where you felt truly alive and connected.
As you made your way through the crowd, you could feel the lingering energy of the night, the music and laughter still echoing in your ears.
"Did you have fun?" Max asked, his hand gently squeezing yours.
"Absolutely," you replied with a smile. "I needed this. Thanks for being here with me."
"Always," he said, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "Now let's get you home."
As you and Max made your way out of the venue, the cool night air hit your skin, a refreshing contrast to the heat and energy inside.
He led you to where his car was parked, a few blocks away from the lively venue. The city's lights shimmered around you, creating a magical ambiance that seemed to extend the evening's enchantment.
Max opened the passenger door for you, his gentlemanly gesture making you smile. As you settled into the seat, you took a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs and calming your racing heart.
Max slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the soft hum of the car a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. The streets were quieter now, the hustle and bustle of the night giving way to a peaceful stillness.
As he drove, you glanced over at him, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights.
A sense of gratitude washed over you, not just for the incredible night but for the unwavering presence of someone who understood you so deeply.
The road stretched ahead, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of contentment and peace.
The cityscape gradually transitioned from the vibrant glow of downtown to the quieter, tree-lined neighborhoods.
Streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and the occasional passerby strolled under the canopy of autumn leaves. The serene streets, dotted with quaint shops and cafes, seemed to whisper stories of their own, adding to the magic of the night.
You didn’t hear when the car stopped or when Max got out of his seat to come to your side, but you felt a touch on your shoulder, gentle and reassuring.
"Hey," he said softly, "we're here." His voice pulled you out of your reverie, and you looked up to see him holding your door open, a kind smile on his face.
"Sorry, I must have zoned out," you said, stepping out of the car and into the crisp night air. Max chuckled, "No worries. It looks like tonight wore you out in the best way possible."
You nodded, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you. "It did. Thanks again, Max, for everything." He squeezed your hand gently, "Anytime. Let's get you inside and cozy."
As you walked towards your front door, the porch light casting a welcoming glow, you realized just how much nights like these meant to you.
You unlocked the door and Max and you walked inside. The house was quiet and peaceful, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the day. As you closed the door behind the both of you, you felt the tension in your shoulders start to melt away.
Max immediately made himself at home, bounding over to his favorite spot on the couch and curling up with a contented sigh. You couldn't help but smile as you watched him settle in, grateful for the simple joy of being back in your comfortable space.
You followed him and sat right beside him, cuddling him. Max laughs, "How much did you have to drink?"
"Not much, just tired now," you mumbled.
Your body felt heavy, and you couldn't resist the urge to snuggle up against Max. The warmth of his presence was comforting, and you felt a sense of safety and contentment in his company.
"Hey, you know, my friends have been asking me a lot lately about...well, about us. They keep wondering if we're, you know, actually just friends or if there's something more going on," you said, feeling a slight blush creep onto your cheeks.
He looked at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Your friends, huh? What do you tell them?" he asked, his voice soft and curious.
You averted your gaze, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. "I...I tell them that we're just friends. But, I don't know, sometimes I wonder if they're right. I mean, are we really just friends?" you admitted, your heart racing.
He was silent for a moment, and you could feel the tension building between you two. "Well, I...I guess that's up to us to decide, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
You couldn't help but glance at him, your gaze involuntarily drawn to his captivating presence. His striking appearance and commanding aura made it nearly impossible to look away, even for a moment.
Your eyes met briefly, locking in a charged, fleeting connection that sent a flutter of shyness rippling through your chest.
Despite your best efforts to avert your eyes, you found yourself repeatedly drawn back to him, mesmerized by his alluring and magnetic persona.
"I notice you looking," he replied, his voice soft and teasing.
"I... I didn't mean to stare, I just..." Your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right thing to say.
He smiled reassuringly. "It's alright, I don't mind." There was a warmth in his tone that put you at ease. "I'm glad you can look at me."
You felt your cheeks grow warm, and you ducked your head, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "I'm sorry, I... I'm not usually this shy," you stammered.
"No need to apologize," he said gently. "I find your shyness quite endearing. Your drunk side is definitely cuter,”
You felt your cheeks flush even deeper at his compliment, a mix of embarrassment and delight swirling within you. You managed a small, shy smile, peeking up at him through your lashes.
"Thanks, Max," you murmured, your heart fluttering at his words.
As you stood there, the silence between you two thickening, you heard Max mutter something under his breath. Though you couldn't catch everything, you distinctly heard the words, "you'll be the death of me."
You chose not to comment on it, unsure if you had heard correctly or if your mind was playing tricks on you. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken emotions, making your pulse quicken.
A moment later, Max took a deep breath and stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice low and filled with intensity. The proximity of his presence made your heart race even faster, each beat echoing in your ears.
You could feel the weight of his words settling over you, making it clear that you were no longer just friends standing on the edge of something much deeper.
Deciding to be brave for once, you took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on. "Max, I... I think there's something more here than just friendship. Maybe we should talk about it, figure out what this really is," you said, your voice trembling slightly but steady enough to convey your sincerity.
He reached out, gently taking your hand in his, and the simple gesture sent a wave of warmth through you. "I've been wanting to talk about it too," he admitted, his eyes never leaving yours. "But you're too drunk to talk about it."
Max then stood up and said, "And it's past both our bedtime," he gave his hand out, "Do you need help?" You looked at his extended hand, hesitating for just a moment before placing your hand in his.
The warmth of his touch was comforting, and you nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Yeah, I think I do," you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips.
As he helped you to your feet, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness about what the future held for the two of you. "We'll talk about this tomorrow, when we're both clear-headed," he promised, his eyes filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.
You nodded in agreement, feeling grateful for the moment of clarity.
"Goodnight, Max," you whispered.
"Goodnight," he replied, his voice gentle as he squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.
As you made your way to your room, your mind buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions. You felt a mix of excitement and anxiety, the weight of unspoken feelings finally acknowledged.
Lying in bed, you couldn't help but replay the night's events, wondering what tomorrow would bring for you and Max. . . . .
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The next morning, you woke up with a slight throbbing in your head, the kind that comes from having one too many drinks the night before. Groaning, you rubbed your temples and tried to piece together the fragments of last night.
Bits and pieces floated back to you—laughter, the warmth of Max's hand, and something about a conversation that felt important. But the details were fuzzy, like trying to remember a dream that was slipping away with each passing second.
As you stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water, you found yourself wondering about the look in Max's eyes and the words he had said. The clarity from last night was now a blur, leaving you with a nagging sense that something significant had occurred.
You couldn't shake the feeling that today might bring some answers, and perhaps a chance to finally address the feelings that had been simmering just below the surface.
You decided to dress casually, slipping into another Mercedes shirt, this one adorned with a signature from Lewis Hamilton that you'd gotten a long time ago. The familiar fabric brought back memories of excitement and admiration, moments when you felt invincible.
Topping off your outfit with the same Mercedes hat from yesterday, you hoped the attire would give you a boost of confidence for whatever the day had in store.
As you made your way to the living room, you couldn't help but think about Max and the conversation from the night before. The anticipation of seeing him again made your heart race, and you hoped that today would bring some much-needed clarity.
With each step, you felt a mixture of hope and apprehension, but one thing was certain—you were ready to face whatever came next, no matter how daunting it seemed.
A gentle knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your heart skipped a beat. Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find Max standing there, his familiar smile instantly putting you at ease.
"Hey," he greeted softly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read your mind. The sight of him brought a rush of both relief and nervous energy, and you couldn't help but smile back.
"Hey, Max," you replied, stepping aside to let him in. As he entered, you both knew that the conversation from last night needed to be revisited, the unspoken feelings demanding attention.
Max glanced around your living room before turning to face you, his expression serious yet gentle. "You're a bit early today," you began, and he nodded.
"I just wanted to make sure you were good after yesterday," Max stated, concern evident in his voice. He took a cautious step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Do you remember anything that happened?"
You shook your head, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "No, it's all a bit of a blur. I remember us talking, but the details are fuzzy. What did I say, Max?"
The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you could see Max weighing his words carefully.
He took a deep breath before replying, "We talked about a lot of things—your feelings, my feelings, and everything we've been holding back. I think it's important we address it now, while it's still fresh."
You glanced at the clock on the wall and your eyes widened in realization. "Max, if we start this conversation now, we're going to be late for work," you said, biting your lip. The weight of the moment was palpable, but the practical concern loomed large.
Max followed your gaze to the clock and sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I know," he admitted reluctantly, "but we can't keep pushing this off. How about we talk after the race? We can't let this hang over us any longer."
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief that there was a plan in place. "Okay, after the race it is," you agreed, grabbing your keys and heading for the door.
Max smiled appreciatively, and together, you walked out, knowing that the conversation was merely postponed, not avoided.
You walked to his car, the tension between you both a silent passenger. The drive felt quick, a blur of city streets and morning light, the hum of the engine the only sound breaking the silence.
Max's hand occasionally brushed yours on the gear shift, each touch a reminder of the conversation that awaited. As the racetrack came into view, a sense of urgency replaced the earlier calm, the reality of the day ahead crashing down.
Before you could fully prepare yourself, you were swarmed by the paparazzi, their cameras flashing and questions flying. Max tightened his grip on your hand, guiding you through the chaos with a protective determination.
"Just stay close," he whispered, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. You nodded, squeezing his hand back, feeling a mix of gratitude and apprehension.
You two safely made it to the Red Bull garage, Max's annoyance palpable as he helped you regain your balance after tripping over a persistent paparazzo. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration but softened by concern.
You nodded, brushing off the embarrassment as best you could, and took a deep breath to steady yourself. The bustling activity of the garage—mechanics fine-tuning cars, engineers analyzing data—provided a temporary distraction from the looming conversation.
Max's jaw tightened as he tried to shake off the earlier chaos. "Let's focus on the race for now," you said, your eyes scanning the garage for any more paparazzi. "You'll need all your concentration if you're going to pull this off."
You gave him a reassuring smile, determined to support him through the day.
The air buzzed with anticipation and energy, but despite the noise and activity, the unresolved emotions between you two lingered, a quiet storm waiting to be addressed.
"Max, you've got this," you said, giving him a quick, encouraging nod before stepping away. He returned the nod, his eyes briefly softening before hardening with focus.
You left Max to focus on his preparations, giving him a supportive pat on the back before making your way through the crowded garage.
Miraculously, you managed to avoid the paparazzi and found Alexandra near the hospitality area, her eyes lighting up as she saw you.
"Hey, Alex," you greeted her. Your voice was a mix of relief and anticipation.
"There you are," she said with a relieved smile. "I was starting to worry they'd swallow you whole!"
"I thought so too, I don't know why they acted like that," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.
"I think it was because of yesterday," Alexandra commented, her expression growing serious. "The rumors about you and Max really stirred things up."
"What rumors?" you asked, your heart skipping a beat.
Alexandra sighed, glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "There's talk that you and Max are more than just friends, and it's got everyone buzzing," she explained, her eyes filled with both concern and curiosity.
"They got a glimpse of you and Max leaving the club holding hands, so they just assumed you two were dating," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
Your cheeks flushed as the memories of the previous night flooded back, the moment innocent but easily misconstrued. "Great, just what we needed before the big race," you muttered, running a hand through your hair.
"Is it true?" Alexandra asked, her eyes searching yours for any hint of the truth. You hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on you. "No, well... I don't think so,"
You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your face. "We're going to talk about it after the race. There's just too much going on right now to sort it out."
Alexandra nodded slowly, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. "I can see how things could get complicated," she murmured, glancing back towards the garage where Max was still preparing.
"Just make sure you both have a clear head for the race. The last thing you need is this drama distracting you."
You sighed, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Alex. We'll figure it out one way or another," you said, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "Right now, we need to focus on the task at hand."
Alexandra nodded, her face softening with understanding. "I get it. Just make sure you two sort it out. It’s important for both of your sakes, especially with so much at stake today."
She paused, then added, "And remember, I'm here if you need to talk or just need some support. We've got your back, no matter what."
"Thanks, Alex. That means a lot," you replied, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. You stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, needing the reassurance of a friend's support in this whirlwind of confusion.
She hugged you back tightly, whispering, "You've got this," before stepping back and giving you a determined look.
As you both pulled away, you glanced around the bustling garage, the sound of engines roaring and mechanics shouting orders filling the air. "Let's get through today first," you said, trying to infuse your voice with the confidence you didn't quite feel. "After the race, I'll sit down with Max and we'll clear everything up."
Alexandra gave you a firm nod, her eyes reflecting her belief in you. "Good. And remember, whatever happens, we're a team. We'll get through this together," she said, before turning back to her duties, leaving you with a renewed sense of determination.
You walked back into the Red Bull garage, weaving through the busy crew members and the organized chaos. Spotting Max near his car, you took a deep breath and approached him.
"Hey Max," you called out, trying to mask any lingering anxiety. He looked up from his preparations, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of curiosity and concern.
"Hey," he replied, looking away from his car to glance at you. "Everything is okay?"
You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just wanted to wish you good luck. Let's focus on the race and leave everything else for later."
Max's expression softened, and he gave you a reassuring nod. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks," he said, giving you a firm pat on the shoulder.
"Oh, I forgot to do something," Max said, grabbing something from the nearby table. You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he was referring to.
Before you could ask, he reached over and took off your Mercedes hat, replacing it with a Red Bull one. "There," he said with a grin, "now you're properly dressed for the occasion."
You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. "Thanks, Max. I guess I did need a little wardrobe adjustment," you replied, adjusting the new hat on your head. "Just remember, no matter what happens out there today, we're in this together."
Max nodded, his expression serious but supportive. "You're just saying that because you got 'adopted' by your idol," he teased, extending his hand for a firm handshake.
"Exactly! You'll have to call me Y/N Hamilton now," you smirked, joining in with the handshake.
Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Never in my life will I ever call you that Y/N, you know that already."
Just then, a crew member signaled to Max that it was time to get ready for the race. Max glanced at his watch and nodded, turning back to you with a determined look. "Alright, I have to go now. But remember, we'll talk after the race, okay?" he said, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
You nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and support. "Good luck out there, Max. Give it your all," you urged, stepping back to let him head towards his car. Max flashed you a final grin before heading off, his focus shifting entirely to the task at hand.
As you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and camaraderie. The roar of engines filled the air, signaling the start of an intense competition.
You took a deep breath, knowing that whatever the outcome, the bond you shared with Max and the team would only grow stronger.
Throughout the day, you mingled with the fans, soaking up the atmosphere and excitement. As the race began, you cheered for Hamilton, hoping for a victory for your home country.
The event kicked off with a thrilling qualifying session, where Lewis Hamilton and George Russell of Mercedes secured the top two positions, narrowly edging out the young sensation Lando Norris of McLaren. Max Verstappen qualified fourth, setting the stage for an intense battle at the front of the grid.
As the lights went out, Hamilton made a perfect start, maintaining his lead into the first corner. Norris and Verstappen engaged in a fierce fight for second place, with the Dutchman eventually managing to make a bold move and take the position.
The race was filled with intense on-track action, as the drivers pushed their cars to the limit on the iconic Silverstone circuit. Oscar and Carlos fought their way through the field, making impressive overtakes and fighting for a podium finish.
Hamilton managed to hold onto his lead, with Verstappen and Norris in close pursuit. The battle for victory came down to the final laps, with Verstappen making several attempts to pass Hamilton, but the British driver held firm, crossing the finish line to the delight of the passionate home crowd.
Lando Norris secured a well-deserved third-place finish, with Oscar and Sainz rounding out the top five.
You could feel the tension in the air as the race unfolded, every corner and straight away leaving you on the edge of your seat. When Lewis Hamilton crossed the finish line, you erupted in celebration with the rest of the fans, the atmosphere electric with joy and pride.
The victory felt like a triumph for everyone present, a testament to the dedication and skill of the entire team.
You were close by when Lewis got out of his car at the number 1 place and he jumped out to meet his parents. The emotion on his face was palpable as he embraced them, the crowd's cheers echoing in the background.
It was a moment of pure triumph and familial pride, one that you knew would be remembered for years to come.
Lewis then ran over to you and gave you the biggest hug, his joy radiating through the embrace. "We did it!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with triumph and gratitude.
You could hardly believe it, standing there in the midst of the celebration, feeling the warmth of his victory shared with you.
The crowd's cheers grew louder, a symphony of adoration for their champion, and you felt an overwhelming sense of connection to this incredible moment. As the noise of the crowd swirled around you, Lewis pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with unspoken emotion.
"Thank you for always believing in me kid," he said, his words sincere and heartfelt. The world seemed to fade away as you shared that instant, knowing that this victory was not just a win on the track, but a culmination of years of hard work, perseverance, and unwavering support.
"It was all you," you said, smiling through the tears that had begun to form in your eyes. Lewis shook his head, still beaming.
"No, this victory belongs to all of us," he replied, his voice steady and filled with gratitude.
Lewis then left you to go hug his team, the very people who had worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make this victory possible.
The mechanics, engineers, and strategists all gathered around him, their faces lit up with pride and relief.
Each hug and handshake was a testament to the unity and effort that had propelled them to this moment. The bond between the team members was evident, a shared understanding of the countless hours and challenges they had overcome together.
As Lewis made his way through the throng, he paused to exchange words of gratitude and congratulations with each person. The joy in the paddock was infectious, spreading like wildfire among everyone present.
The cameras flashed, capturing the raw, unfiltered emotions that painted this victorious scene. It was a reminder that while one man may stand on the podium, the triumph is always a collective achievement, built on the foundation of teamwork and mutual respect.
As you were cheering for Lewis, you didn't realize when Max got out of his car and walked over to you until he was standing in front of you, his helmet still on his head.
Startled, you looked up to see the intense gaze behind his visor, a mixture of disappointment and adrenaline in his eyes.
After he didn't move and all you could hear was his harsh breathing, you quickly helped him with taking off the helmet. As it came off, his face was a portrait of raw emotion—disappointment mingled with exhaustion, yet there was an unmistakable glint of respect in his eyes.
"You were incredible out there," you said softly, trying to bridge the gap between rival and friend. He nodded, his expression softening slightly as he took a deep breath. The tension slowly melting away from his shoulders.
He nodded before moving closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "After this, be in my room." A shiver ran down your spine, the unexpected command sending a surge of adrenaline through your veins.
You couldn't help but feel the intensity of the moment, the lines between competition and something deeper blurring in the dimming light of the paddock.
You met his gaze, searching for any hint of jest, but all you found was a seriousness that made your heart race. "Max, what are you—" you began to ask, but he silenced you with a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head.
"Just be there," he insisted softly, his voice a mix of urgency and something else you couldn't quite place. With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
You watched the podium ceremony unfold, the cheers of the crowd and the spray of champagne creating a festive atmosphere. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake Max's words from your mind.
His voice, that hint of something unspoken, echoed in your ears, overshadowing even the triumphant smiles of the winners. As the drivers celebrated, your thoughts kept drifting back to that moment, the weight of his command lingering heavily.
Back in the team garage, the clamor of post-race activities did little to diminish your inner turmoil. You replayed the scene over and over, analyzing every detail of his expression and tone.
What could he possibly want? Why the urgency?
As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself drawn inexorably towards his room, curiosity and anticipation intertwining in a complex dance. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the door, uncertainty mingling with a strange sense of inevitability.
As you walked, suddenly someone took your hand and pulled you into Max driver's room—it was Max. The door closed behind you with a soft click, and you found yourself standing inches from him, your breath catching in your throat.
His eyes were intense, a storm of emotions swirling within them that you couldn't quite decipher.
"I needed to talk to you alone," he said, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the chaos of your thoughts.
Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his presence enveloping you. "There's something I've wanted to say for a long time," he continued, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "But I didn't know how, or if it was the right time."
You could feel the weight of his words, each one laden with unspoken meaning. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, and you knew that whatever he was about to reveal would change everything.
His eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. "What is this about, Max?" you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.
He took a step closer, the space between you shrinking to nothing. "There's something I've been hiding, something I need to tell you before it goes any further."
His hand remained on yours, grounding you as the weight of his words settled in. You could feel the gravity of the moment, the potential for everything to change hanging in the air between you.
Max’s grip tightened slightly, as if drawing strength from your presence. "I’ve been battling with this for so long," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "and I can't keep it to myself any longer. I’ve been feeling something more than just camaraderie between us. Every race, every strategy session, every moment we've spent together... it’s become clear to me that it’s more than just professional respect or friendship."
Your heart raced, your mind spinning with the implications of his confession. "Max, are you saying...?" you trailed off, unsure if you dared to hope for what his words might mean.
He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he took another step closer, his free hand gently cupping your cheek.
"Yes," he said softly. "I’m saying that I’ve fallen for you. And I couldn’t go another day without telling you, without knowing if you might feel the same."
Your breath hitched at his confession, emotions swirling within you. "Max, I... I don't know what to say," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest.
His gaze remained unwavering, filled with vulnerability and hope. "Just tell me how you feel," he urged gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.
Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of relief and confusion. "I've been trying to convince myself it was just friendship," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But deep down, I've felt it too. I was just too scared to acknowledge it, afraid it would ruin everything."
Now that everything was out in the open, a sense of liberation washed over you. The weight of unspoken emotions lifted, replaced by a cautious but undeniable hope.
"But knowing you feel the same changes everything," you whispered, a tentative smile breaking through your tears.
Max's eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and relief, a broad smile spreading across his face. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go.
"You have no idea how happy you've just made me," he murmured into your hair, his voice filled with an overwhelming sense of contentment.
He then pulled back to look at you, his eyes mostly glancing at your lips without any hesitation. The air between you crackled with a palpable intensity, a silent promise of something more.
His breath mingled with yours, creating a heady blend of anticipation and longing. "May I?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, seeking your consent with every fiber of his being.
You nodded, unable to find the words, your heart pounding in your chest. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of shared emotions.
The kiss was tender yet filled with unspoken promises, a confirmation of the feelings you both had been harboring for so long. When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath.
His eyes held a depth of emotion that took your breath away, shimmering with love, relief, and an unspoken promise of a future together. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze soft yet intense, as if memorizing every detail of your face.
"Love you," you whispered without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
For a moment, you worried you had said too much too soon, but the way Max's eyes softened reassured you.
"I love you too," he replied, his voice steady and sincere, as if he had been waiting to say those words for a long time.
The weight of the moment settled between you, both comforting and exhilarating.
"What happens now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Max's hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt both grounding and electric.
"We take it one day at a time," he said, his smile widening. "No more hiding, no more pretending. Just us, figuring it out together."
The simplicity of his words brought a sense of calm over you, and you nodded, feeling more certain than ever that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.
"That means supporting me before Lewis," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.
You chuckled, shaking your head with a mock-serious expression. "That's a bit of a stretch," you replied, your tone light and teasing. "I might need some convincing before I switch allegiances."
Max laughed, the sound rich and warm, filling the space between you. "Challenge accepted," he said, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I'll just have to work extra hard to win you over, won't I?"
"Well, you've got your work cut out for you," you replied with a smirk. "But I'm open to seeing what you've got." His eyes sparkled with determination, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.
"Don't worry, I love a good challenge," Max replied with a confident grin.
"By the end of this, you'll be my biggest supporter, just wait and see."
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i.t.y/n
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liked by maxverstappen1, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 1,702,847 others.
tagged; maxverstappen1
i.t.y/n: Hey everyone! I know I've kept you in the dark for a while, but I'm excited to finally share that Max and I are together. We've been enjoying our time together and wanted to keep it just for us for a bit. To make up for the secrecy, here are some adorable photos of Max that I know you'll love.
I have to admit, he's managed to convert me into a Red Bull fan. But don't worry, Mercedes will always have a special place in my heart. Thank you all for your understanding and support. 💙
view comments below
maxverstappen1: Schatje I love you 🫶
i.t.y/n: I LOVE YOU TOO MAXIE 🥰🥰
lewishamilton: Congratulations on your relationship! I hope you both the best 😊
i.t.y/n: Thanks dad! I'll always be supporting you in secret 👍
lewishamilton: @maxverstappen you better take care of my daughter
*liked by i.t.y/n*
maxverstappen1: Yes sir
mercedesamgf1: Don't worry Y/N, we know you will always belong to us 🩵
maxverstappen1: Actually Y/N is all mine and always will be mine so respectfully f**k off
i.t.y/n: Max what did we say about bad words????
maxverstappen1: sorry schatje, @mercedesamgf1 I mean with all the respect I can have, please frick off
*liked by i.t.y/n*
user2: NOT MAX FIGHTING WITH MERCEDES ACCOUNT OVER Y/N????
user3: Y/N is actually living the dream 🥹
i.t.y/n: @maxverstappen1 I was just looking at the pictures of you that I took and you're always smiling in them
maxverstappen1: That's because I love smiling at what's mine 🫶
i.t.y/n: That's so sweet! 🥰🫶
maxverstappen1: Wanna meet me after sim practice??
*liked by i.t.y/n*
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aphrostiel · 4 months ago
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Lewis with his trophy in his home. 🏆✨
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formulanni · 5 months ago
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104!!!
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Tags: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time
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sugenberry · 5 months ago
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He knew what he had to do after seeing the Union Jack on the car 🦅🦅🦅
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lewishamiltonstuff · 1 year ago
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The best race engineers in F1.
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vetteldixon · 7 months ago
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bernie collins has written a book, and look who she got to blurb for the cover!
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lewishamiltonstuff · 1 year ago
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No this is INSANE!!!!!
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magnusstan · 5 months ago
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Some *slight* editing
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pinkjamblesss · 5 months ago
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✨ SIR LEWIS HAMILTON X FINE LINE ✨
| inspired by fine line - harry styles
| for my dear vani, i love you @forzax44
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gordonstanheight · 5 months ago
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sebastian vettel official instagram all season: 😴😴 bees environment senna and here’s a throwback to 2010
sebastian vettel official instagram when lewis wins: CONGRATS LEWIS
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lewishamiltonstuff · 5 months ago
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LEWIS HAMILTON SETS A NEW RECORD OF THE MOST RACE WINS AND MOST WINS AT A CIRCUIT PREVIOUSLY HELD BY LEWIS HAMILTON
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moon-brain-90 · 5 months ago
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Next year I'm going to need a permanent dad cam of Ollie's dad during every race, he added so much to my enjoyment of Saudi
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